


Hanahaki

by Saberin



Category: Love Live! School Idol Project
Genre: F/F, Hanahaki Disease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 20:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13015608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saberin/pseuds/Saberin
Summary: In which the flowers tell





	Hanahaki

Another wave of nausea hits.

She didn’t use to have these spells so often; her hands only turn cold before a public performance. She coughs into her cold hands and staggers a little, looking away from the rest of the members who are still practicing.

And her lone partner standing by the rail.

Umi’s periodic claps and shouts almost drowns out the noise in her head, overlapping her coughs. She still hears it anyway, and find her eyes trailing to Nico as always.

Maki coughs again, clearing her throat.

A small pink petal falls from her open palms the moment she removes her hands, and she watches it drift haphazardly in the spring breeze, directionless and carefree. Remnant of something awfully cursed.

“Are you okay Maki?” Nico shouts from the other end of the rooftop, right arm waving in a large arc. “You’re taking a long time over there!”

Her body reacts in a way she couldn’t deny, the burst of warmth within her chest seems to fuel the plant growth – she coughs up a few petals and looks at them with mild disgust.

“I’m fine!” Maki shouts back across the brown tiles, letting the cherry blossoms drift to the floor. She downs half a bottle of water, letting the cool water rush over her sore throat.

It shouldn’t be true. None of these are. Her? In love with Nico?

Absurd.

* * *

   
She isn’t sure when this started, but sometime before spring, petals started appearing all over the music room. Umi was the first to notice, and fussed over the occasional petals between scores.

“Cherry blossom at this time of the year?” Umi had asked quizzically, “It isn’t even spring yet.”

Maki only gave a shrug in return, knowing nothing better.

And now she _does_ , except furious denial overpowers every single positive emotion she feels for Nico _._

The tales Nozomi feeds them on a daily basis, of tarots and legends, stars and universe, myths and heroes, she had always taken them with a pinch of salt. Romance is nothing but the gossip topic of hormonal teenagers. Love is nothing but drama. To think that one’s fate lies in a single experience of love is preposterous.

There is no _scientific_ explanation nor logic.

But the rest of the members had listened to Nozomi’s tale on Hanahaki byou attentively; Maki scoffed at the melodrama, the ludicrous fact that you could be so in love that it's almost fatal. Plant growth? _Because_ of love? She dismissed it with a roll of her eye, catching Nico doing the same.

_Ridiculous, right?_ She rolled her eyes again. Nico’s grin only widened in response.

Perhaps this is her retribution for scoffing at the mere possibility of anything like that happening, or perhaps the universe just loves to prove Nozomi right.

Her world spins on another axis the moment Maki hears Nico outside the first-year classroom, never mind the fact that the senior was merely walking past and heading towards the canteen. It isn’t that difficult to figure out that the source of this trouble is the very same one that gives her headaches.

She struggles with denial.

On some days it gives her a petal or two, which she easily attributes it to the season. On other days she coughs up a little more, grateful that the music room is a safe sanctuary, and the only other occupant is awfully good at keeping secrets.

It only gets harder, for every note Maki plays there is only one person that’s truly on her mind. There is a kind of pink that drowns.

She coughs, splattering petals over the scores.

* * *

   
“Why can’t you just _leave_ me alone?” Maki shouts back.

“Why you ungrateful-”

She struggles with anger. The potent feeling of dissatisfaction and rage. Why her? And why Nico?

“It would be better if you would just go away _.”_ She lashes out, during practice. Eli pops a concerned look over and Umi stops clapping.

“If you want to partner with somebody else _just say so!”_ Nico shouts back, biting back tears. “Why are you like this today?”

She bites her lips and drops a line.

“I need a break.”  
  


* * *

 

  
She could vaguely remember how the very first petal came about. They were practicing in subunits, and she had walked in on the third years talking about graduation. There was a brief moment of silence as she registered the words exchanged, and she had stood still, stunned.

And then Nico grabbed her arm and pulled her close, forehead against hers, asking if she was alright.

The first petal came out in a small gasp.

The second time this happened, she was with _her._ Hands locked with each other in a struggle trying to win this physical fight. There was this _uncanny_ yet familiar feeling of partnership the moment Nico laughed, destroying the mood completely and calling everything a truce.

“Why are you laughing?” She had gasped then, still in mild anger.

“You look like you’re constipated.” A familiar giggle, and the kind of smile so wide she could see the whites.

Her face burned, chest ached.

And then there was a small petal.

.

.

.

Then came more petals. A flurry of pink.

For when Nico praises her, her heart bursts with more emotions than she could describe and there is this feeling of warmth that engulfs her entire being. The mere thought of Nico brings this _ache_ to her chest, before the petals arrive in a series of coughs.

Maki attributes it to the budding friendship they shared. Friends, that’s what they are. Nothing more and nothing less. And she has no intention to further deepen their relationship.

Perhaps this is what makes it so difficult.

The blood that scattered across the scores does not go unnoticed by Umi; the thorns growing are beginning to hurt. Her throat pricks with pain at times, making it difficult to swallow. She chokes, on the blood that gushes up, and on the petals that rushes forward.

She knows two endings to this story, one that erases every feeling she has, and another that speaks of death. And for some wicked reason, she isn’t willing to give this up yet. For the bursts of warmth makes her feel _alive._

She struggles with acceptance.  


* * *

   
Muse practice is really a curse more than a blessing, Maki thinks. She drops another petal on the piano, grateful for the solitude that music composing brings.

She skips out of practice for the second time that week.

Umi thinks it’s getting worse, these symptoms, these signs of _love._ Maki would have agreed, but the word love brings her to her knees. Surgical removal? Of these _feelings?_

She thinks about the times Nico made her smile, a trip down the memory lane. She thinks about her _partner,_ whose arms she had locked with for the past few months. She thinks about their daily banter and feels something else stab her in the chest.

Would she be empty after?

Would she _forget?_  
  
“It’s killing you.” Umi says softly, offering her handkerchief. She hits the keys on the piano gently in return.

“Not yet.” She replies. “Not yet.”  


* * *

   
And now she wheezes a little, unable to hide.

Cherry blossom season is an excuse used too many times over, and Nico would have none of that again.

“It’s not normal.” Nico says, with fists clenched and frown on. “That’s not okay Maki. You’re sick.”

“I’m not.” Maki insists, making sure never to lock eyes with Nico. “I’m fine.”

“Look at me in the eye and tell me you are fine. Why are you saying this when you obviously-” The sentence cuts off, and she looks up to see Nico covering her mouth and eyes wide in fear.

A single petal drifts to the floor.

She barely manages a rueful smile before she hacks up blood. A small thorn pricks her palm but the physical pain provides little distraction. It probably never crossed her mind that Nico would have somebody else as well.

So much for partnership.

She coughs again, before slumping onto the music room floor. The windows are open and the invited wind blows the little colours away. She watches the Nico’s petal drift further and further, tugging her heartstrings as they go.

“Maki-”

“Nozomi got us.” Maki says, barely managing to keep up the smile.

There is another cough, this time from Nico. Her heart clenches at the familiar sound, of the respiratory system forcefully ejecting the petals out. The silence after kills, and with every tick of the clock the roots grow, she feels her lungs crushing and caving in.

“No.” Nico begins, shattering the quietness.

Maki looks away, willing for this interaction to _end_ and for everything to be removed. She hears coughs, painful wheezes and feels her heart shatter.

“I’ve got you.”

She looks up to tears welling up behind the red, Nico’s hands letting go a flurry of red petals.

“What do you mean?” Maki chokes on the flowers welled up inside, hands grabbing onto the fabric of her uniform for dear life. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve got you.” Nico says, holding Maki’s hand in her own. She puts a single flower petal into the other palm. “For Hanahaki.”


End file.
